


It Started With A Whisper

by orphan_account



Series: Chao's Kink Bingo [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Begging, Community: kink_bingo, I accidentally cute, M/M, Surprisingly Fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-04
Updated: 2012-08-04
Packaged: 2017-11-11 11:03:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Stiles asks his famous question one too many times, Danny finally snaps</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Started With A Whisper

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Amanda. The plot was partially inspired by a prompt by PilgrimKitty.
> 
> Title from the song 'Everybody Talks' by Neon Trees

The thing is, Stiles never really thought about what Danny must think about his questions. Well, he assumed he found them annoying, but that was just a good bet where anyone was concerned. But outside of that, it had never crossed his mind, probably because it wasn’t really about asking _Danny_ , per se. Sure, the guy was hot, a pretty cool person, and Stiles really wouldn’t say no if he suddenly turned around and said ‘want me to prove it?’ or some porn line like that, but in the end he was using Danny as another research source to one of his endless questions and information gathering sessions. The goalie was Out, he was accessible (if only because Stiles had classes and practices with him to be able to ask), and if he ever got passed the annoyance factor, he probably would be able to give Stiles a pretty decent idea where he fell in the ‘attractive’ range.

So it was a surprise when one day Danny finally stopped ignoring the question and snapped at him. “Would you drop it already?”

The force of the command, and the emotions behind it (emotions, what?) knocked the voice out of Stiles, and for a second he just blinked at the other boy. “Huh?”

Casting a quick glance at Harris, who was poking at the papers on his desk while the students chattered and did their labs, Danny twisted so he was facing Stiles instead of their beakers. “Look, I don’t know what your deal is, but can you try not to be a dick about this? Whatever’s up with you, I’d appreciate it if you’d just _say_ it instead of going with this whole bullshit nice guy routine.” The other boy’s expression was stony and set, looking for all the world like an enemy players was barely toward the goal, and Stiles still had no idea what he was on about.

“I...” Swallowing hard, Stiles sort of flailed ineptly at him, trying to get across ‘I don’t have a problem’ and ‘nice guy routine?’ with flicks of his fingers and snaps of his arms. It didn’t work. “I’m not... I don’t... what?” 

Danny’s gaze shuttered for a second, looking angry and a little hurt, before he met Stiles’ eyes and started to soften, just a little. “Were you trying to be nice about it or something, then? Because it’s not working. At all.”

Making a noise that was not at all a yelp of confusion, Stiles finally let his arms drop. It wasn’t like they were doing anything helpful anyway. “I don’t know what ‘it’ is!” He finally hissed, voice harsh in an attempt to keep from shouting and alerting Harris. “Did I do something wrong?”

The expression softened further, before Danny narrowed his eyes. “You really don’t... You can’t be that dense, Stilinski. You just can’t.”

Now that was just unfair. “Hey, c’mon! Dense about _what_? I’m very perceptive. I figure stuff out all the time.”

Shaking his head, Danny snorted. “Apparently you can be.” Stiles flailed at him again, but this time the goalie eyed his movements with something like amusement. “But why do you keep asking that question, then?”

“What, if gay guys think I’m hot?” Stiles shrugged. “Um, because I want to know? The usual reason. Or maybe I’ve been using questions wrong this whole time. That would explain a lot, actually, especially the stuff about why teachers think I’m so annoying.”

Danny snorted, gaze implying that people thought so because he _was_ annoying, but Stiles ignored that. “Really, that’s it? Not because I...?” He didn’t know what Danny was and or did, so he shook his head. “Okay. Okay, fine.” Suddenly, the other boy leaned forward, well into Stiles’ personal bubble. He managed not to flinch, most due to the fact that running with wolves had basically popped that idea. “First of all, there isn’t a scale for all gay guys. Different people like different things, and don’t put me into some stupid category, okay?” Stiles nodded, because he hadn’t meant to do that, but he got where Danny was coming from. “Secondly... yeah. Want me to prove it?”

Mouth falling open, Stiles gaped at Danny, who just arched a brow at him, looking amused again. Finally he nodded, the motion jerky with surprise and eagerness, and Danny gave him a surprisingly shark-y grin, and oh, that was probably why he got along so well with Jackson. “Okay then. We’ll meet up after practice. But!” He held up a finger, and Stiles went still in anticipation. “Your stupid question has caused me a lot of frustration this semester. You’ll be making it up to me.”

Huh? ...Wait, did he mean...?

_Oh._

“Um... okay.” Stiles managed, swallowing hard, and Danny gave him an approving smile and a fond smack on the shoulder before finally focusing back on their lab. It was a lost cause, especially since there was no way Harris was going to give Stiles a break, but it was better than making small talk after that conversation.

And when they all went back to their normal seats, Stiles noticed Danny and Jackson speaking in low voices to each other. When they were done, Jackson caught his eye and gave him the same smug, amused look he got when he was about to flatten someone on the field.

Stiles’ stomach dropped. His dick did the opposite.

***

Lacrosse practice _dragged_ , in a way it hadn’t since Scott had first turned and turned it into a game of ‘will he or won’t he kill someone’. It was lucky that Coach didn’t usually care too much for how Stiles played, or else he would have been in trouble.

When it finally, finally ended, Stiles caught Danny elbowing Jackson out of the corner of his eye. The boy gave him a sulky look, but dragged his feet to Scott. Looking very unhappy about it, Jackson offered his co-captain a ride home, and then basically dragged him to his (stupidly expensive) Porche without waiting for an answer. Once the show was over, Stiles’ eyes found Danny again, who was now much closer. Standing basically in front of him, in fact, with that shark grin and wow, Stiles really did like that expression. Kind of a lot.

“Ready to go?” The look in Danny’s eyes wasn’t really a question. “I figured we could go to your house. My Dad’ll be home, but yours won’t, if I remember correctly.” And, yeah, he was right. Ever since all the Deputies had turned up with a mysterious case of the dead, Stiles’ Dad was suddenly not only the senior-most officer, but just the man they were looking for. It helped that Jackson had finally dropped that stupid restraining order. So not-yet-Sheriff-again Stilinski was spending a lot of time on the job, and Stiles was happy for him. And for that. Especially now. So Stiles nodded, and Danny’s grin got even wider. He offered his hand to help the smaller boy up, and they both walked to the Jeep.

Making it up to Danny or no, no one else was allowed to drive Stiles’ baby. And that seemed fine with Danny, who slid happily enough into the passenger’s seat. He was perfectly polite and calm, if kinda quiet, until they were out of the parking lot and into the road.

That was when the touching started. At first it was just a touch to his knee, innocent except for the way that never really was innocent. Then, on the short drive from school to home, it crept up and up and _up_ and it really wasn’t fair that so little was driving him so crazy.

When they finally got to Stiles’ house, he hopped out almost frantically, hands shaking just a bit as he fumbled with the key to get the damn door open. Danny watched it all, smirk growing wider and eyes going a little more heated with every awkward fault and jolt, and wow, maybe he actually liked that? Huh. That was a new one.

Once in, Stiles hesitated, because he had no clue what to do now. Should they go upstairs to his room? Or was there some kind of thing to do first? Like, making-out or something? This seemed like they were jumping steps, and Stiles was left without the required reading or the homework done.

Chuckling, Danny just grabbed Stiles’ hand and pulled him down the hall to the living room. Had there been any chance that the would-be-Sheriff would come home soon, that would have been an issue, but as it was Stiles wasn’t about to say no and jeopardize Danny stopping or coming to his senses or anything that would keep this from actually happening. A strong shove to his back (which was a reminder that Danny played goalie because he was really excellent one, not because he was bad at the rest of it, ‘cause yeah. Arms. Good) sent Stiles sprawling onto the couch. Once he was reasonably settled, Danny slid on top of them until they were aligned in some very strategic places and pressed their lips together.

And it was good. Really good. Maybe it shouldn't have been, because Stiles didn’t really have any idea what he was doing, but Danny didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he seemed to enjoy the way he hesitated, coaxing his tongue to come out and showing him the best places to lick and explore.

It didn’t take long before Stiles was showing some very visible signs of how much he was enjoying this, and Danny chuckled into his mouth. Then he shifted his hips up in a smooth roll, and oh. Wow. Friction was nice. Stiles was officially a fan. Put that one down on his Facebook profile. Pulling away a little to gasp, he licked his lips in concentration and tried to match Danny’s pace. It was a little harder than it looked, since coordination was a problem, but soon enough he caught up to the rhythm and it was _good_ and then-

Then Danny pulled away.

“Hey!” Stiles yelped, because cockblocking was so not cool, but then shut his mouth. He wasn’t gunna be that guy who blew a gasket if the other person pulled back, even if some other parts of him wanted to blow instead. But Danny didn’t go far, just keeping their hips apart and pinning Stiles down. Oh. This could be bad. Or, as his dick suggested, very good.

Smirking, Danny tilted his head, eyes dark with something Stiles couldn’t quite identify. “You haven’t made it up to me yet?”

Stiles frowned back, squirming a little against Danny’s strong grip, but when the fingers tightened he managed to still. “It would help if you told me how.”

The shark grin came back, and Stiles’ heart gave an extra strong pound. Leaning forward (just his head, damn him), Danny smiled against his ear, which was hot in a really odd way. “I want you to blow me.” Oh. The way that Stiles’ mouth watered just a little, and the way his heart rate jumped again proved just how very pro-that idea he was. But Danny wasn’t done. “And I want you to beg me for it.” That was met with considerable less enthusiasm, because Stiles did have his pride, thanks. But the other boy’s gaze was unchanging, showing no signs of mercy. When Stiles hesitated, however, he tilted his head to the side and gave a little nod, like he’d figured something out. “And if you do a really good job, I’ll tell you what I was talking about in Chemistry.”

Ouch. Right in the curiosity. It should have been startling that Danny could find his weakest spot so easily, but it wasn’t. Instead, it was just kind of hot. And a great motivation. So finally Stiles nodded. “Yeah, okay. I’ll... should I just start, or what?”

The real, excited grin Danny gave at that was kind of encouraging, because he finally looked like he was Stiles’ age, instead of like some super experienced kink master. “Not yet. Let’s get set up first.” And he got off of Stiles, which was a real shame, and then directed him to his knees beside the couch. Settling his knees on either side of him, Danny unzipped his jeans and freed himself. The way Stiles’ mouth was watering got worse, because Danny wasn’t that long (so far as Stiles could tell, although he really wasn’t an expert. Or, maybe he was, after that circumcision paper...), but he was thick and heavy looking and yeah, this wouldn’t be a problem. “You can start now.”

Of course, wanting it was easier than doing, and for a second Stiles just worked his mouth silently, for once not sure what to say. “Please?” It was weak and pathetic and remarkably insincere, but Danny petting through his buzz cut and he felt better about it. “Uh, please. I wanna blow you.” 

Slowly, Stiles started to feel a little more comfortable with his position, and with it a little more confident. “Need to, honest. I need to try it, to see what it tastes like. I wanna feel you on my tongue and see how far I can swallow you down.” He leaned forward to try and brush his lips against Danny’s cock, just to feel the texture and the heat, but the other boy’s fingers dug into his scalp and he backed off. Right. “Please, Danny, I need you. I need to know what if feels like, what it sounds like and what it smells like. I need _you_ , and I just wanna... I just... _please_.” The last bit came out almost pitifully, and he looked up to meet Danny’s dark eyes, his own begging to let him.

To his surprise, Danny didn’t look cool and collected, like Stiles had imagined him. Instead, he was flushed and his eyes were bright and he looked like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Like it was a gift he’d never expected, and that made Stiles want to give it to him all the more, because Danny deserved anything he wanted. “Please,” he repeated, voice a simple, sincere whisper, and the other boy let out a low gust of air and nodded, the motion too hard to resemble calm.

Without any further encouragement, Stiles wrapped his lips around the head and licked, tasting the beads of pre-come that had collected on the tip. The taste itself wasn’t really good, exactly, but the satisfaction of getting what he wanted - getting _Danny_ \- made it a different kind of wonderful. He started to bob, and when he realized he could only get a few inches in his mouth, wrapped his hand around the rest and played with it with quick fingers. Above him, Danny moaned, head falling back for a second before snapping into place again, like he didn’t want to miss a second of the show.

It was harder than it looked on the internet, but way more satisfying. Danny was heavy and hot and sleek and wet in his mouth, and Stiles loved being able to use his mouth. He sucked and he licked, tracing veins and creases and the bottom of the head. Flicking to tip into the slit, he finally looked back up to focus on Danny’s face, wanting some indication of how he was doing. Judging by the increased flush and the open expression, pretty decently. Not bad for his first. When their eyes met, Danny shuddered hard and then licked his own lips. “Touch yourself,” he rasped out.

Stiles didn’t need to be told twice, because that was kind of an awesome idea. Shoving his free hand down his own pants, Stiles pulled himself free, gasping at the sensation of cool air on his poor, sensitive cock. That ruined the seal he had on Danny’s cock, and saliva went _everywhere_ , dribbling down the shaft, soaking the jeans, and leaving tiny wet streaks down Stiles’ chin and neck. There was another groan for that, this one higher pitched, and Stiles wondered if it was because of the gasp or from the sight of Stiles’ own dick. Personally, he kind of hoped it was the latter.

It took a second to get his bearings, now that he couldn’t support himself on his hand anymore, but quickly enough he picked up rhythm back up, jerking himself in time to his bobs. Suckling at just the head for a moment, Stiles looked back up to try and gauge how close Danny was. So of course that was when he came, spurting into Stiles’ mouth. It sprayed onto the top of his mouth and the back of his throat, and if it hadn’t been so _good_ he would have pulled away. Instead he just jerked himself a few more frantic times before coming himself, coating his own hand and shift.

Then Stiles pulled away, breathing hard. His face and hands were a sticky mess and his jaw ached, but he didn’t mind at all. It had been too good. While he was catching his breath, Danny petted his head once more, before tucking himself into his still damp jeans and getting up. At first, Stiles thought he was leaving, and gave a small noise of distress. But Danny just made a soothing sort of ‘shh’, and then slipped into the bathroom. A few seconds later, he came back with a wet washcloth. 

Kneeling down next to Stiles, Danny carefully cleaned off his face and neck, before handing it to him so he could clean off his hands. His plaid shirt was sticky and gross, far beyond a simple wipe down, so Danny unbuttoned it for him, and Stiles shrugged it off. When they were as clean as they were going to get, he gave the goalie a small, almost shy smile. “So, that was good.”

“Really good,” Danny agreed, gaze fond, and he patted his head one more time. Leaning into the touch, Stiles settled so their sides were pressing, which was nice. It might not last long, but he was a tactile person. He liked hugging and snuggling - what little he got of it, anyway - so he’d take what he could get. Danny showed no signs of wanting to shove him off and make his escape, which was really nice. 

For a long moment, they just stayed like that. But Stiles wasn’t built for drawn-out silences, so he finally tilted his head up to look at Danny. “So, you still gunna explain? You promised, dude.”

“I did,” Danny agreed, if slightly reluctantly. “The reason I snapped is because I thought you were making fun of me.” When Stiles took in a breath to protest that, the goalie held up a finger. “Not like that. Not about being gay. But because I, uh... I’ve kinda had a thing for you. For a bit. It wasn’t exactly a secret, so I thought you knew and were teasing.”

Stunned, Stiles blinked at him. Then again. Once more. “You _like_ me? As in, _like_ -me like me?”

Giving him a bland look, Danny nodded. “If you want to put it in the most childish way you can, sure. We’ll call it that.”

And Stiles was back to flailing, because he didn’t know how to articulate how much sense that didn’t make. Danny was the top of the food chain, the guy everyone liked. He was popular without stepping on everyone below him, unlike Jackson and, yeah, Lydia too. Maybe he was a little stand-offish at times, and his taste in best friends left a lot to be desired, but he was a good guy. _Everyone_ liked Danny. 

But Danny liked _him_.

Finally, he seemed to have enough of Stiles’ flailing, so Danny shoved at him a little. “Oh, shut up.” He didn’t sound mad, thankfully - just a little irritated, in a fond way. But then his shoulders slumped just a bit, and Stiles scooted closer to try and be a comfort if he could. “I know you’re hung up on Lydia, okay? This was just you figuring it out. And that’s cool. Better with me than someone you picked up at a bar, right? Not like I don’t get anything out of it.” He looked away, choosing to stare at his feet instead, and Stiles immediately missed the attention. “If you didn’t figure it out before, it doesn’t have to be a thing you have to think about. Feel free to forget I said anything.”

“Hey, hold up!” Stiles finally interrupted, absolutely done listening to this nonsense. “Um, no. Just no. I’m not going to forget this. Hell, I don’t want to. It was awesome and I really liked it.” Now Stiles was the one staring at his shoes, because it really was easier than doing face-to-face feelings stuff. “Yeah, I have a thing for Lydia. But you’re the only one I’ve noticed too. And I know it’s not going to happen with her - it’s a stupid dream, I get that. So it’s not the same thing, but I do like you, and if you’d wanna... I dunno, keep doing things, I’d be really okay with that.”

It was kind of ridiculous, the way they were both sitting side by side, staring at their feet. But it worked, and Stiles could feel the way Danny perked up a little and caught his smile from the corner of his eye. “Just more blowjobs, or boyfriends?” Danny asked, sounding... not weary, but like there was one choice he’d much prefer.

“Boyfriends?” Stiles managed, afraid he was picking the wrong answer. “I’m not really the fuck-buddies kind of person. I don’t think I am, anyway.”

There was a pause, and for a second Stiles wanted to laugh and backtrack. Whoops, it was just a joke, no strings attached, got it. But then Danny’s hand slid into Stiles, and a grin bloomed across his own face. “Boyfriends is good.”

Leaning against Danny a little more, Stiles nodded. “Good.”

Once again, the silence stretched out as it settled. Then, because Stiles was a moment ruiner, he twisted and rested his chin on Danny’s shoulder. “So am I your type?”

Snorting in that fond-irritation way he’d perfected, Danny rolled his eyes. “Not even close.” Stiles must have wilted, because the goalie tilted his head to rest it on top his. “But you’re Stiles, and that’s better. Besides, my type turns out to be dicks a lot. Try not to do that, okay?”

Laughing, Stiles snuggled closer. “Deal.”


End file.
